bored

With my wife in Iowa undergoing training, I'm left to my own devices to keep myself from being bored to death. I win at staring contests with my cats. They look away after a while and I shoot both arms up with one big Hah! I won. Meanwhile, the cats give that smirk: they move their whiskers up in that slow, annoyed way: what an idiot for a master we have. I split my lunch and dinner with you whiskered ingrates and you can't even curb my boredom. Tell me again how the coming days are in any way holy?